


Feedback

by Clio_Codex



Series: The Working Title EP [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Guilt, Music, Musicians, Sex, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clio_Codex/pseuds/Clio_Codex
Summary: Meetra Surik, bassist for the newly christened The Malak Mistake, wrestles with the fallout of the break-up of Revanchist, the echoes of the Malachor festival disaster, and whatever the hell is happening with the band's new guitarist, one Atton Rand.Meanwhile, Revan, frontman for the Malak Mistake decides bringing in Canderous Ordo of the now defunct Mandalorians might be just the thing the band needs.....Rating is for ch. 1.
Relationships: Atton "Jaq" Rand/Meetra Surik, The Jedi Exile/Atton "Jaq" Rand
Series: The Working Title EP [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155938
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	1. Temptation Waits

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here goes my first attempt at "crack gone serious." The world is....expansive at this point! Much thanks to arturas for kicking us off and indulging in the 30 pages (and counting) of brainstorming - it's a ridiculous blast ;)
> 
> If you've not read The Audition and Crossfade by arturas - go do that now (because they are bloody brilliant!). And I've definitely referenced "things" from both (because what's the point of such a collaboration if you aren't up for references inside of references?). 
> 
> Apologies for gratuitous cursing and sappy smut. I've probably committed a tactical error by writing the smut in chapter one - alas. Any mistakes in musical references are entirely my fault and anything I get right is because of arturas.

_ You come on like a drug  
I just can't get enough  
I'm like an addict coming at you for a little more  
And there's so much at stake  
I can't afford to waste  
I've never needed anybody like this before _

_ \--Garbage, "Temptation Waits" _

She’s in trouble.Maybe it’s just been way too long since she’s had a proper fuck.Or maybe it’s the stress of this asshole of a month. Atton Rand _is_ a hell of a lay but that does _not_ explain why he seems to have taken up permanent residence in her head space - not just the sex either (which is, _god,_ incredible) -but the damn man himself.

If she’s honest, it started at Peragus - shit of a shop - the way he was hopelessly tangled in cables, sporting that god-awful polo and questionable hair. She could lie and say it was the promise of his calloused fingers or the boldness of his claim about his playing that piqued her interest.Truth is though, it was that fucking smart mouth - that slightly nervous smirk, the self-deprecating snark, the flirty banter.That’s what prompted her to give the invite. 

When he actually showed up and blazed through _Into the Shadowlands_ like he’d written it himself, she was sold on him for the band.When he pulled off _Fuck Manaan_ while she sucked his cock, well…should’ve known then this wasn’t a fleeting interest.But when he actually fucked her furious over her own goddamn amp, _christ_ , she should have realized she was well and truly screwed- full fucking package indeed. 

She lied about the fourth octave, too.The man’s mouth is really goddamn clever.

Still…this is ridiculous. Meetra knows. 

Ridiculous - like the fact that she is laying here fucking smiling at the way he’s sprawled out next to her, tangled in the sheets, half of that very nice ass exposed. _Smiling._ Like when was the last time she’s let someone spend the night in her flat much less her bed?

Ridiculous - the way she wants to know the story behind that tacky little tattoo just above his very nice ass.Absurd that somehow those playing cards are cute - and worse that she suddenly likes cute.

Ridiculous - the way she’s daydreaming about that clever mouth, his adorable habit of nervous rambling, and the way his tongue just…who the fuck is she even?Adorable?Not in her vocabulary.If she could just focus on the latter usage of the tongue maybe she’d be ok.

But she can’t.

Next thing you know she’s going to be singing fucking “Dantooine Nights” style love songs and wearing pastels like goddamn Bastila Shan. 

It’s just the stress. Logically. 

Or some alternate universe she’s stumbled into. 

He’s just a good fuck.

That’s all.

A hard bang has always been her go to distraction and _christ_ she needs one; after Malachor the shit has just piled on - the whole fuckery with Alek, the legal mess, the schmoozing about to keep their schedule intact.And _god_ if she has to hear Revan go off about Alek one more time she’ll throttle him herself. Unresolved feelings, Revan.Address that shit.

So naturally she’s just looking for an outlet.

Besides, Revan does have a point that fucking the guitarist is one way to keep him in line (maybe you should have given that a go, Revan).So really this is just a win all around - good for the band, a little stress relief, and….

Atton mumbles something drowsily and shuffles enough to pull the sheet fully off. _God._ Fucking tease even in his sleep.She’d make him pay for that except she’s way overslept, they’ve got gigs coming up, and after the less-than-stellar showing at Citadel Station, plenty of work to do to find their post-Alek sound.

“Get up, Rand. We’re late.” She settles for sitting up to smack that very nice ass, but lets her hand linger just a little too long.And of course he notices, flashes that little self-satisfied smirk of his as he peers up from the pillow, a look that makes her well aware that neither of them is wearing anything.It’s hard to scowl properly when he’s looking at her that way, but she tries.“Rehearsal in thirty.”

He thrashes over, fully tangling himself in the sheet somehow, yawns, and rubs his eyes.“Mmm… what time is it?”Why she finds his clueless git act so _absolutely_ fucking sexy is a mystery she’ll have to unravel later.Could have something to do with the nonchalant way his hand is snaking up the inside of her thigh though.Or maybe it’s that her ability to reason blew up with the amps at Malachor.  
  
She jolts herself out of bed and away from temptation, tries to keep her voice short. “It’s almost noon.”That’s a another sign that something is wrong with her because she never sleeps past 10.Morning rituals are not to be fucked with.And yet here she is, running nearly late, hardly time for a quick shower - and god knows she does _not_ need to hear Revan’s snark if she shows up fresh out of bed. 

Even so, she’s pretty sure she’s doing a shit job of looking irritated.

“Well, it was a…long night.”His brow quirks a bit as if she needs a reminder and either the look or the memory triggers a throb at her core. “What, does Revan get mad if people are late?”He doesn’t move except to put his hands behind his head, although Meetra’s pretty sure he lets his knee fall open just a bit more like he wants her to _really_ look at his damn morning hard on.

And she absolutely is _not_ looking except for a quick glare. “No, I get mad.”Her traitorous eyes drift a bit too far south though - and he notices that, too.

He’s grinning full-on now, probably because she is totally eyeing his cock despite herself.“Don’t you want to fuck first?” 

Actually, yeah, she goddamn does but that seems ill-advised given her current mental state.That smile from before is trying to creep back on her face, which is another sign that she’s losing her shit. She grits her teeth to try to quell it.“Listen, Rand, you’re here for the band.This,” she waves her hand, “is extra.Get up and get moving.Priorities.There’s a lot of fucking work to do.”Before he can respond - or she has a chance to change her mind - she turns around and heads for the shower. Twenty-five minutes now, time enough if she hurries. 

As the water hits she remembers it’s Tuesday and that Revan’s arranged for Canderous Ordo to drop in - has a big idea that somehow Ordo might bring just the thing to help them find their new sound.But fuck.Malachor.Did Revan really need to go and dredge that up?Worse, Ordo was the lead guitarist for the Mandalorians - and no band was hit harder by the clusterfuck of Malachor than the goddamn Mandalorians.Christ, Revan, really?

They’d be just fine if….

That thought gets lost as Atton pushes back the curtain and lets himself in the shower. “You said we were late.Thought we could save time.Shower together.”That crooked smile flashes and his hands are already on her in a way that has nothing to do with getting clean.And really she’s only a little mad (and mostly because he had the poor form to jump in under the hot water).But even that fades away - along with the meeting with Ordo and _fucking dare to say something about me being late_ , _Revan_ \- as he kisses her, somehow managing to be delicate as he nips and bites at her lip. 

_God._ She can still taste herself on his tongue from the night before.

Not mad Meetra runs her hands down his now wet chest as she kisses back, twisting at his nipples and pushing him against the wall to reclaim her space in the spray. He’s got a hand in her hair and one slowly working down her spine, those graceful fingers knowing just what they are doing.His soft moans fade into her tongue as she runs one hand down, tracing along his hipbone before diving for his cock.

It’s not the shower that’s got her wet between her thighs, but some combination of the way he’s looking at her between kisses, eyes heavy with wanting, and the fact that his hands are so fucking warm and _insistent_ as they explore her bare skin.His cock in her hand doesn’t hurt either, the wayhe twitches in her palm at the attention.

“Make it quick,” she mutters against his mouth as she rubs him leisurely across her slick.“We are late.”If she wasn’t getting off on the way his body was begging for it against her slow strokes, she’d bring him inside her right now.

“Mixed signals here, Surik.You want it… ah…fast or slow?”That fucking smirk again.“Your call.Just….fuck…I…just tell me what you want.”Those words whisper in her ear, then his tongue traces down her jaw as he grinds into her hand and against her cunt.What she wants is this, whatever this is.They’ll just be late.

Shower sex is always awkward as hell and this is no exception.How either of them even has the stamina for it after last night is a bit of a bafflement, but that fades, too, as he mouths her neck and fingers at her folds.Guitar isn’t the only thing the man knows how to play; she’s moaning already at the feel of his calloused thumb against her clit and _goddamn_ she’d swear he’s running fucking scales inside her.

But they are late and she wants him ten minutes ago.“ _God_ … just fuck me,”she pants at his ear, clawing at his back like she’s not left enough scratches there already.He’s grinning again; she can feel it in the way he’s nipping at her collarbone, so she yanks him back by his hair.“Fuck me, Rand.”There’s naked lust in his eyes but some vulnerable thing, too, that makes her stomach flip. _Shit_ , she’s in trouble. 

There’s a pause before he raises a brow and spins them round slamming her back into the wall.She fumbles again at his cock, runs her fingers flat against his length and thumbs his head, making him bite his lip.That’s another habit she knows she likes, the way his eyes go a bit hazy with it even as they catch fire.Wouldn’t mind just staying here and letting him finger fuck her while she jerks him off except that he’s started chanting her name against her neck and grabbing at her ass, just begging to bring him inside her.And she'd be lying if she said she didn’t want that, to feel that fucking _connection_ and oh…. 

“Rand, _shit_ … now…just…do it.”The almost pleading tone in her voice confirms she’s lost it.Meetra Surik never begs, but she’s this close if he doesn’t fucking rail her soon.

For once he says nothing, just gives her a hungry stare as she guides him in.He’s stronger than he looks as he manages to hold her up balanced on one leg while the other hooks around his waist - or maybe this is some next level tantric shit where they’ve unlocked the power of levitation.It’s an impossible angle but somehow he’s aiming just right and …. “ _Fucking shit_ , Rand.”

His teeth graze at the pulse on her neck as he sucks at it; there’ll be a bruise there to match the one she’s getting from the way his fingers are digging into her ass and she’s glad for it. Her head falls back against the shower wall, deep in the sensation and maybe she’s saying something like _faster_ or _harder_ or _more_ ….or he just knows, because he drives into her hard, the wet smacks of it echoing in the small space.

Those fingers find her clit again.But really it’s the way he’s watching her that gets her this time.Because she’s not Meetra fucking Surik, bassist for whatever but just _her_ , like he’s seeing her raw and loves her in spite of herself.And, _fuck, oh_ , what that does to her - she can’t pull him deep enough, can’t claw hard enough, bites at his shoulder and wants to scream.

“Surik….” he mutters into her neck, moans and curses.“You’re a goddamn angel, Meetra.”Before she can process what she’s heard, he changes the rhythm of his fingers, and….she can’t hold on any longer, groans deep, and feels herself slam around him.“Meetra…” Her name slides into something primal as he spills inside her.

Then it’s over and they are standing there on shaky legs in the shower spray, breathing hard and holding each other, afraid to say anything lest it be the wrong thing.And she doesn’t want him to pull out, doesn’t want him to fall away. 

But of course he has to and reality hits.That it’s past time to go, they’re late, but… she just wants to touch his face for some reason, wants to run her fingers across that clever mouth, to trace the curve of his jaw.Suddenly she can’t fucking breathe because something is happening that’s not about sex and she doesn’t understand.

“Surik?” Fortunately, Atton’s inability to stay quiet for long kicks in and snaps her back, so she blinks and manages a smile.Whatever she just felt will have to wait until later when she can get her head back on straight.“Surik.”He’s cupping her cheek, those eyes still just… _shit_.“Sorry for making us late.But pretty sure it was worth it.I mean, it was good, because really you are amazing and I….” 

“Did you call me an angel?”She knows as she says it, she shouldn’t ask, should just let it go as orgasm-induced nonsense - only the timing doesn’t add up.She hopes he meant it - not that she’ll tell him that.

“Um…” He gives a sheepish grin as his finger plays at her face.“Might have done, yeah.‘Cause you are, an angel.Knew from the moment I saw you…”

She cuts him off with a kiss, one she really means, slow and deep and teeth and tongues.Fingers twine in wet hair. 

When they finally break off, it’s because the water’s gone nearly cold; she shuts off the taps and grabs for a towel.He takes it and wraps them both, pulling her back close, their damp skin clinging together. That’s a puzzle, too, that she likes it, likes the way she can still feel his heart thudding against her own.

For a moment, she gives in to let her head rest against his shoulder, lips just grazing his jaw as she speaks.“We do really need to get going, Rand.”And maybe that’s as much about the need to avoid whatever is happening here as it is about dodging Revan’s digs.“We’re so late.”She pulls away, dragging the towel along to wring out her hair. 

“So you keep saying.” He’s still grinning so she tosses the towel at his head, darting off to the safety of finding her clothes.

Her bra’s just hooked up and her tank in her hand when he’s behind her, his breath tickling at her ear, his still damp skin just touching hers.“You know, this extra part is pretty good, Surik.”And, yeah, it is, the way his kisses are soft now, just feathering at the back of her neck, the way his arms are wrapping around her, the way she sinks back into him.For a split second she wonders if it’s not the best part, wonders what would happen if she said _fuck it_ to Revan and rehearsal and facing Malachor. 

But those unpleasant knowns are easier to parse right now than why she really fucking wants to stay right where she is.So she won’t stay, instead spins in his arms, runs a lazy hand along his face and tries to look unconcerned.“Pretty damn good, Rand.You’re the full fucking package.”She’d say more but her voice feels shaky.And really the dazed look on his face speaks for them both.“But get dressed.”She lands a quick peck on his cheek and retreats to find the rest of her clothes. 

It’s not until they are halfway to the practice studio that Meetra realizes she never actually washed her goddamn fucking hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next....Canderous Ordo, formerly of the Mandalorians....the not-quite crack continues ;)


	2. Kill the Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up covering more things than originally intended but hopefully it works! Warning for language, too many references, and suspect descriptions of guitars.
> 
> Credit to arturas for the embedded lyrics - and of course for co-creating this whole ridiculously amazing universe. Things continue to escalate!
> 
> I'll ask forgiveness once again for any misrepresentations of the music industry....
> 
> I make no apologies for Canderous Ordo ;)

We kill the lights and put on a show

It's all a lie

But you'd never know

\--The Birthday Massacre, “Kill the Lights”

Meetra’s still reeling when they get to the studio; doesn’t help either the way Atton pulls her in for a kiss just inside the front door, those insistent hands warm through her tank.She wants to run her fingers through his hair except that he’s gone all in on the mohawk and damned if she’ll wreck that for him.So she settles for curling her fingers in the softness of his faded t-shirt to pull him closer. 

The hair was Revan’s idea but she’d encouraged it, part of Atton’s new stage aesthetic.No fucking way they’d have let him do a show with that sweet-boy-next-door vibe he’d had before, but she suddenly wonders if he would have agreed to the vest and the rest of it if she’d not pushed.The vest is fucking _hot,_ but definitely not his usual look… and he had been a little shy about the no shirt part.Was it the words whispered in his ear that had gotten him to say yes?She’d meant them but still…. 

Revan’s another worry, the way he rides Atton hard every damn rehearsal, yet Atton just deflects and carries on, laughing even when the jabs have to sting. Must be the lure of fame, the making it big, that makes it worth changing himself, taking Revan’s shit….surely, it’s not her (and if it was, what would that mean?). 

Now’s not the time to think on it more, so she breaks off, nudging him back, hands still in his shirt.“If Revan bitches, Rand, I’ll take care of it, ok?”Revan’s gonna bitch, because his attitude has gone from bad to fucking insufferable ever since word broke that Alek has managed to pull together a band (or at least found a bassist and drummer who will put up with his shit as long as the cash is good and the coke’s flowing). “And try not to weigh in on the Ordo business.It’s a shit plan, but…well, when Revan gets an idea like this he doesn’t really take opinions, not even from me.” 

A wave of _just fucking done and tired_ washes over her with those words and comes out in a sigh.Atton lifts her chin to meet his gaze, his eyes twinkling to match his grin.There’s a hint of the thing that was there in the shower still there, too, that makes the tired fade a bit. “Sure thing, angel.You’re the boss.” _Angel._ Hearing it again confirms that she likes it- but it’s not time to sort out why on that point either. Of course, saying in the shower is one thing; calling her that out here is just asking for trouble. 

Her hands tighten in his shirt and she tries to scowl.“Don’t you fucking dare…”The threat hangs unfinished, but surely he knows the guys would never let it drop if they heard that shit.Not that she sounds particularly threatening, especially as her scowl is more a smile despite her efforts. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Surik.”And she believes it, knows it’s not because he’s afraid of her or even Revan or HK but because maybe it’s just _theirs_.

Still she tries not to let on, manages a somewhat stern half-cocked brow.“Good.Because I will spill on your collection if you do.”She leans in again and flicks at his ear with her tongue betweenwords, acutely aware of the way he’s found bare skin at her waist.“And I’ve seen it _all,_ flyboy.The little ships.The big ones.The little people all lined up on the shelf.”Who knows where the fuck that comes from, _flyboy,_ but it fits.

“Flyboy?”That grin and his hand tracing the base of her spine give away that he likes it, so she files it away for later - _flyboy_.Maybe he’s onto something with the damn nicknames. “They’re minifigures, Surik.And it’s a valuable collection I’ll have you know.”If only he knew how adorably ridiculous he’d been explaining that collection to her once he’d gotten over the initial embarrassment at being found out, how he looks that way now.If only he knew what his hand and that grin and the beat of his heart against her fist are doing to her (besides reminding her how absolutely fucking in trouble she is).

But she’s stood here like a fucking idiot long enough.“So you’ve said.”A quick final kiss to the side of his mouth and she’s pulling him towards the studio and whatever Revan’s got waiting.

Revan bitches. “You’re late.”He glares as he looks up from the mess of papers he’s got strewn about the table.“Bit unlike you, Surik.To be late.” 

That earns him an eye roll and a scowl. “Yeah, I am late.And you look like shit.”And he does, worse than back when he and Alek were constantly coked up or hungover or both.“Besides doesn’t look like we’ve missed anything.What’s this?Bloody arts and crafts?”She shifts through the pile.Seems Revan’s fucking printed out every goddamn mention of the Citadel Station gig from the last week and marked the pages with highlights and angry scribbles.

“Revan believes we should analyze what the critics have to say about Citadel Station to see if there’s a pattern that might prove useful.I am skeptical, but perhaps you and your little boy toy should assist.”HK’s not fucking assisting, though, just sitting in his usual corner tapping out beats on his knee. “You have something on your neck, Surik.Just an observation.Seems Rand’s mouth has utility after all.”The beats shift, punctuating the dig.

Of fucking course he’d say something about that.He’s always been the one to make cracks about her sex life, but it’s never felt so personal…then again she’s not exactly fucked a member of the band before.It’s the swipe at Atton that really bothers her though.“Piss off, HK, before I break something that’s not your fucking sticks.”

Atton reddens but laughs.“Do you ever leave that corner, HK?Busted chassis or something?If you need…”

“Fucking shut up, all of you.”Revan’s pacing now, alternating between arms crossed and hand tapping his chin - full on battle mode.Years of experience have taught Meetra it’s best to just wait out his mood when he’s like this. No wonder why HK is just sitting in the corner, awaiting orders.

After a few minutes of silence, Revan slams his fist in the pile and tosses papers in her direction.“Have you seen this fucking bullshit, Surik?Even YVIN went on more about cunting Alek than anything we did.” 

“They’re just assholes chasing the gossip for hits, Revan.Don’t read too much into their shit.” The reviews of the Citadel Station gig hadn’t been _bad_ really just not particularly good, certainly not up to Revan’s expectations.It’s not like they can ride on the success of _The Dark Side_ forever.

“No reading into anything required.Pretty goddamn clear.”Papers fall to the floor as Revan grabs for one and reads, “‘In short, the set seemed more haunted by the departure of Alek and less interested in the birth of something new.The Malak Mistake may prove to be just that if the band can’t move past the ghosts of Revanchist.’”

Meetra blows out an exasperated breath.This is going nowhere productive and she’s just not in the mood to coddle the nonsense.“Honestly, Revan, that’s not an unfair assessment.Citadel Station was supposed to be a debut of at least a few new singles and we didn’t deliver on that.” They’ve never bullshit each other, she and Revan, even when Alek was off the rails and HK just indifferent, they’ve always talked straight.But something’s changing now and she’s not sure if it’s that she just doesn’t care or that Revan’s finally gone too far.

He’s rubbing his eyes, considering a reply, but before he can speak Atton looks up beaming.“Well, this one’s pretty positive. ‘The band’s found a gem in replacement guitarist Atton Rand who has brought his own subtle flair to Revanchist’s hits.His tweaks to ‘Fuck Manaan’ were a standout in an otherwise uninspired set.We look forward….’” 

Revan cuts him off with sort of strangled growl and angry glare. Atton’s grinning anyway and gives her a wink.She shakes her head and bites back a smile, remembering how she fumbled fucking chords every time she caught a certain guitarist out of the corner of her eye during that particular song.Well, that’s her own damn fault, isn’t it?

The review’s not just blowing smoke; Atton’s been damn good - in rehearsals and at the gig (and, yeah, in bed but not fucking relevant right now) - not that Revan would acknowledge the talent it took to pull off the set in front of a crowd like Citadel Station.As they were packing up after, he’d just muttered in Atton’s general direction, _you didn’t fuck up, Rand, so you’re off probation._ Closest thing to praise he’s offered in the last few months.

Atton carries on despite Revan’s glare.“Just sayin’ it’s not all bad so maybe…” This time he’s cut off by the need to dodge HK’s flying drumstick.“I’m not getting that, asshole.”

Meetra shakes her head again in warning despite the laugh in her throat - Revan’s silence rarely means good things and more than drumsticks are going to be flying soon if they don’t dial it back. 

The half laugh falls to a scowl as she turns back to Revan.“Look, really you are reading too much into this.Of course, we need to get our heads out of our asses and cook up some new stuff, but stewing over this bullshit isn’t helping.This just doesn’t fucking matter.”

“It matters, Surik.Public perception is important and these fuckers influence perception.People need to believe in this change or they won’t follow us.”What he’s saying is absurd but his voice says he bloody believes it.

“Christ, Revan, it’s not a goddamn war.”Now she’s getting worried.He’s always been the one to obsess about this shit, but this is truly next level.“It’s only been a few months.It’s an adjustment for all of us.And, yeah, fucking Alek’s flaws are many but I think you are forgetting just how much you relied on him for….”

Revan’s in her face at that, his breath angry on her check.“I did not fucking _rely_ on that goddamn cunting prick for _anything_ , Surik.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Atton tense.HK’s drumming falls silent.Guess that’s a nerve.

While that outburst might throw off the others, she knows him too well.They are nose to nose as she glares back and hisses, “You fucking sure about that, Revan?Not sure this is about the goddamn reviews.” She’s pissed as hell at him but there’s something else, too, some sense that she’s let Revan call the shots for too long, regret that she’d suggested the goddamn name for the band, fury that he’s pissing on Atton who has so far saved their asses from losing all their bookings.

All that explodes in her ears like that fucking terrific roar of everything going off at Malachor, dread and panic and sick in her gut. She bites it back to hold the stare with Revan and realizes it’sjust the goddam door buzzer blaring.Revan’s not moving and she sure as fucking hell isn’t backing down.If he thinks he can cow her after this many years, he’d bloody better reconsider.

The buzzing keeps going.No one moves. 

“Are we getting that?‘Cause I could get that if we are in fact expecting….”Atton sounds cheerful enough but she can tell without looking that he’s frowning and twisting his fingers against the nervous urge to run them through his hair.“I’ll just get it.”He tosses a worried glance in her direction and goes out to answer the door.

A few more seconds of silence and Revan steps back with a final snort.“That’ll be Ordo.It’s a good plan, Surik.Don’t be a bitch and fuck it up.”If he’s trying to threaten her with that last bit it doesn’t work.Maybe he just needs to believe it will like he needs to believe the Mandalorian’s fallen frontman has something to offer.

“What the fuck ever, Revan.You’re the one who needs to get your shit together.”

He doesn’t have time to respond before Atton returns with an amused looking Canderous Ordo, an oversized guitar case on his back. The man’s fortunately traded the Mandalorian’s over-the-top stage get up - the tight sparkle spandex, the platform boots, the mask-like makeup - for an unassuming black t-shirt with chopped off sleeves.He’s still sporting his trademark impressive mane of hair, mostly gone gray but even bigger in person than it had ever looked on stage.

Either the man’s got some kick ass curl genes or perms didn’t go out with the 80s.

Nice arms, too, despite that god-awful tat that looks carved on with a fucking sharpie.While Meetra’s not usually one for the overly muscled, she entertains a fleeting curiosity about how the rest of him looks before remembering that she’s taken. 

_The fuck?Taken?_ No time to entertain that thought as Revan’s already starting in on his offer to Ordo.She’s kicking herself for agreeing to it previously - they don’t _need_ another guitar in the mix and it’s not clear how Ordo’s dirty ass shreds are going to lead them in a sonically sound direction.Although at this point, maybe she just doesn’t fucking care.Let Revan have this shit.

Didn’t used to be this way.It had been so good when they’d started Revanchist.Even before that when they were just kids.Big dreams.All the music.That was before things went south between Revan and Alek, before they got caught up in all the bullshit.But now’s not the time for that post-mortem either.Revan’s talking, Ordo’s trying to look disinterested, and she’s supposed to be playing some fucking role in all this. As soon as this shit is over she’s heading for a pack of smokes, her favorite single malt Scotch, and a hard fuck - in whatever order. 

Atton catches her eye and grins behind Revan’s back like he’s reading her mind.Ok, _flyboy_.Later.

Thoughts about later are rudely interrupted by Ordo’s snort. “What makes you think I’m interested in your offer, Revan?” He’s making a face that says he’s offended by Revan’s words, as though he can afford to be.Since Malachor, he’s been reduced to picking up work as house team at Davik Kang’s shithole, Taris. 

Revan smirks in a self-satisfied way.“Well, if you want to crawl back to mopping floors or whatever shit it was you were doing for Davik, be my fucking guest.”Christ, Revan’s always been an asshole, but sabotaging his own plans hasn’t ever been in the mix.Ordo may be hard up but he’s not exactly a pushover; nothing stopping him from walking out right now.Besides, by any critical assessment, Revanchist had been routed by the Mandalorians at Serraco; she may not like his style, but Meetra admits Ordo could go toe to toe with Revan and might even occasionally come out on top.

“Nah.Done with Davik’s shit.”Ordo laughs and kicks back in his chair, proving he’s been around too long to give a fuck about Revan’s dramatics.“I’m looking for a new purpose.And maybe you have something to offer, Revan.A challenge worth my time.”He pauses, a sly grin breaking on his face.“And I can’t help but think you need me.Wouldn’t have called otherwise, would you?Thought after Malachor,Revanchist would be staying well away from any Mandalorians.”

Oh shit, yeah, definitely not a pushover. 

Revan snarls.“Fucking Revanchist is done.”

“Yeah, heard Alek took care of that.”Ordo smirks.“Always was one to just blow shit up, huh?Not the strategist you are.”Apparently, Ordo’s cocky bastard act isn’t limited to stage performances.Maybe he’s what Revan deserves then.“You know, lots of rumors floating about that festival.Curious how Revanchist managed to still pull off a full set despite all that goddamn equipment frying.Know anything about that, Revan?”He rubs his jaw and lifts a brow.“Have to say I’d be pretty fucking impressed if there’s half a truth to the rumors.Would take real fucking balls to do something like that.To risk your own necks to fuck over the enemy.”

Surely Ordo’s just shitting around.No way he knows anything about what really happened -the goddamn Mass Shadow Generator, that fucking over-the-top amp stack Bao-Dur had cooked up.Meetra’s ears ring again just thinking about it and she’s none too thrilled at the way Ordo’s watching her a little too close, that cunting smirk on his face.

“Like I said, would be pretty fucking impressed to play with someone who’d pulled it off.” He leans forward, that goddamn smirk bigger now.“If in fact you did.Still, you’re right, Revan.Malachor fucked over the Mandalorians more than anyone and I’ve been shoveling Davik’s shit ever since.Not much glory there.So what is it that you think I can do for you?”

“Rhythm guitar.”Revan’s face is impassive but hers surely isn’t.This isn’t what they’d fucking talked about.He’s offering Ordo a place in the band, but they’d agreed he’d only come in on consult. 

“Revan,” she growls a warning but he waves her off.

His eyes are cold when he turns to face her.“Trust me, Surik.”Too much history in those words. Her jaw clinches.HK whistles from the corner and Atton shuffles nervously behind her. This shit can’t end quickly enough so what the fuck ever. 

Revan turns back to Ordo.“Get set up.Let’s see if you can still play.” 

“Oh, playing won’t be a problem.”Ordo pops open his case and drags out the most fucked up looking guitar she’s ever seen and for a second she wonders if he means to attack them with thing.Looks like it’d do damage if you fucking touched it wrong, sharp shit everywhere there’s space for it that.The horns are shaped into some sort of blades, three on each side; another set frames what looks like an ornate but functional dagger at the base of the body.There’s a matching dagger crowning the head - amazing he’s not taken out his own eye with the damn thing over the years.The whole thing’s layered in some sort of iridescent shit meant to look like dragon scales or armor or something medieval. It’s gotta weigh a fucking ton.No wonder Ordo’s rocking the biceps.

Atton’s reaction breaks her anger.“What in bloody hell is that??”She’s biting back a laugh either at the damn guitar or the naked incredulity in his voice or probably both.

“One must assume that’s a guitar, Rand.A curious aesthetic to be sure.”HK rouses from the corner and stomps towards his drums.Meetra dares a glance at Atton who’s standing there mouth hanging open like a dumbass - a fucking cute dumbass, but a dumbass none the less.The laugh slips out then as a stifled snort and Atton loses it.Revan shoots them a glare which she ignores.

Ordo doesn’t seem to notice - or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about the opinions of a fresh-faced guitarist or the muffled laughs of a pissed-off bassist.“This is Beskad.”Ordo says it like he’s talking about his goddam favorite child.“She’s been fronting gigs since you were in diapers, son. Forty fucking years on the circuit. Show her some respect.” 

There’s clearly a story here.

Atton manages a semi-collected look although he’s also fumbling unnecessarily at his own guitar.Meetra’s doing the same.Ordo’s tuning up, too, but he’s not stopped talking.

“I remember it well, my first gig, Beskad slung over my shoulder. When we walked out onto the stage, well, it’s a fucking thrill, isn’t it?Like jumping out of a goddamn plane, waiting until the last possible moment to open your chute.The flash of the lights, the thrum of the crowd vibrating into your gut, nothing between you and failure except the guitar in your hands.” 

Ordo pauses to reverently rub Beskad’s neck.“The exhilaration, the euphoria as I hit those first chords, my ears ringing with the roar of the crowd. That shit stays with you, son.It was a hell of a show.And fucking inspired. ‘Basilisk War Droid’ was born out of the jam at the end. One of the finest moments of my life.Beskad’s played true ever since.”

“Are you here to fuck the goddamn guitar, Ordo, or to play it?”Revan’s tone is dismissive.Apparently, he finds Ordo’s hard on for his gear neither charming nor amusing.

Ordo laughs and actually kisses the goddam guitar.Shit’s amusing for fucking sure.

Revan pretends not to notice, his voice all business.“Assuming you’ve prepped ‘Lair of the Krayt Dragon’ and ‘Rakata Prime’ as we discussed?”

“Yeah, Revan.I’m ready to play your shitty little hits.” 

Revan glares.“Let’s fucking do it then.” 

Could be having Ordo around won’t be such a bad thing after all.

As they cue up for “Lair,”Meetra realizes with a pang that she misses the constant shit talk between Alek and Revan, wonders if Alek’s got that with his new crew.Alek’s a fucking bastard, yeah, and maybe she’ll never quite forgive the shit he pulled, but he’s left a hole. 

Maybe that’s what Revan’s really after, something to fill the gap Alek’s left - or a way to ignore the implications of his fall.Atton’s been good for her for sure but he steers as clear of Revan as possible, almost like he doesn’t want to be acknowledged.And since HK is always just…well HK, it’s Revan who’s lost the most.

Hard not to wonder, too, if they didn’t all bear some responsibility for what had happened, the way Alek fell deeper in the shit while they looked the other way.They’d all been too fucked up to see - or too enamored with how Alek’s coked-up magic on guitar drove Revanchist’s success. Would he have even gone down that path without Revan in the first place?Maybe that’s what’s eating Revan now - not that he’ll admit it, even to himself. 

Those thoughts tumble into the music, fingers flying along familiar paths.Her eyes close and her breath calms against the beat.Easy to forget sometimes how much a fucking part of her this is, the way her bass might just be an extension of herself, the way the chords make sense even when life doesn’t, the way the shit just clears away as she sinks into it.

Two hours later and Revan calls it done.He’s talking to Ordo again but she’s not really listening, just picking notes, thoughts of Alek and Malachor and when they were kids jumbled together and back in the front of her mind.There’s some question about what she wants tangled up in it all, too.

“Surik.” Revan’s snapping fingers in her face.“Surik, you listening?I need an answer.” 

Revan gets the answer but her eyes go elsewhere.“Sure, Revan.It’s what you want, isn’t it?”Vaguely it registers that Revan’s disappointed that she really doesn’t care, that he’s turned back to Ordo and there’s some discussion about the next rehearsal and terms and the sort of legal shit she’s usually all over. 

But Atton’s watching her and her pulse ticks up and that unfamiliar flutter hits her gut - so she doesn’t care, not about the legal shit or Ordo anyway.

“Revan.You may want to check your phone.”HK’s looking at his quizzically.“Appears our wayward former bandmate has chosen this moment to reach out.”

“Not interested in anything that bloody bastard has to say, HK.”

“You’ll want to see this.”

In hindsight, they should have changed their fucking numbers to avoid the prick.

The message is in fucking all-caps; just like Alek to go so goddamn over-the-top: JUST FOR YOU BASTARDS.A LITTLE PREVIEW.SITH LORDS.SINGLE.RIP OFF THE FUCKING MASK.DROPS TOMORROW.There’s a sound file attached.Fucking christ. Of course, Alek’s petty enough to fucking text them this shit.

He’s hit the mark though because she can feel Revan vibrating from across the room as he reads and hits play on the file.Alek’s angry guitar is clear enough despite tinny sound of the phone’s small speakers.Revan says nothing, just gives a deadly glare at his phone as though Alek’s in the screen. 

Alek’s never been a controlled singer, but what he’s doing here is straight up raw screaming, like he’s fighting with the guitar to be heard.

_...you’ll see it was always fucking me…_

Thirty seconds in and it’s clear he’s not dicking about with the messaging either.

_…you’re just a voice inside my head now…remnant of the past now…I’ll leave you in the gutter with the rest of your fucking cult…._

Revan’s free hand clinches, the muscles of his jaw twitch.

_…you’re dead news, pathetic…just a relic of the past…the world will see the truth with me when I rip off your fucking mask…_

Meetra considers just taking the phone, stopping the track, only she’s not sure how Revan will react if she does.The room’s gone awkward - everyone but her is making a hard effort to look at everything but Revan and the damn phone.

She ought to look away, too.

_…take off that fucking mask….show the world just what you are…show them the fucking ugly monster you’ve kept hidden for so long…_

But the mask stays on.Three minutes in, Revan sets down the phone and walks out of the studio, leaving Alek’s trash guitar to play out over his screams.

_…I’ll tear your fake-ass face in two….make you look in your own eyes…make you see just what you broke inside…_

Fucking shit.Alek’s not being petty; he’s being honest.Not that it’s her business but she wonders if he’s said this to Revan before, if that’s what had really happened after Telos.Wonders if Revan will hear what he’s saying now.

_…the world will see what you did to me…when I rip off your fucking mask…_

And then it stops and the silence hangs.She should say something, but every clever quip she’s ever had flees her mind. 

Fortunately, HK’s not so hampered.“Good to see Alek has not lost his flare for subtlety.No doubt, he meant to incite some sort of rivalry.”

“Nice guitar work, though.”Ordo offers as he slaps Atton on the back.“You’ve got shoes to fill son.Good luck.”

“Pretty sure I’m not exactly filling that part of the shoes.”He shoots her a _look._ “I’ve got other priorities.”

There’s a bit more small talk and then Ordo’s gone.HK wanders off as well.Atton’s waiting by the door.She could just go, leave Revan to stew or whatever, but….she does actually give a fuck - someone’s gotta check on him.

“I should go deal with Revan.Catch up with you later, ok?”

Atton’s hand on her arm is comforting in a way she didn’t know she needed.“Want me to come with you?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.Just want to make sure he’s not in there making bad business decisions or something.” Her smile’s probably not convincing but Atton let’s it go, just gives her arm a squeeze and then he’s gone too.

Revan’s in the little back office, sitting on the desk, picking at his guitar.The tune is vaguely familiar, could have come off of _Knights_ but it’s nothing that made the album.Curious though that Revan’s gone there with his thoughts.

“Memories of happier times?”She leans against the doorway, arms crossed. 

He doesn’t look up or stop playing.“What do you want?”

“I thought we should talk.”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking counsel, Surik.”

Of course the bastard’s going play this difficult.Fine.“That why you changed the deal with Ordo?”

“It’s a good plan.You heard him play.He’ll push our edge in a way that Rand doesn’t.”

She sucks a breath.“You’ve not exactly given him creative space, Revan.”

“Left that to you, Surik.”He looks at her then, a cruel grin on his face.

“Fuck you, Revan.I came in here to talk, not catch your cheap shots.If you can’t act like an adult, I’m out.”

Revan stops playing, crosses his arms over his guitar.“Fine.Rand’s good, yeah.Solid technique and I’m confident he’ll play what we give him and do it well.But he’s not got the harder sound we need right now.Ordo does.We need both things.”

“Did I miss the conversation about ‘harder sound’?I seem to recall we were considering options, trying some new things.”

“It’s the right direction.You heard that shit Alek just put out.Knew that’s exactly what he’d fucking do.And we’ve got to be ready to counter….”

She cuts him off.“There it is.Alek.This is about cunting Alek and not about the band. _Our_ band.The Malak Mistake isn’t just you, Revan.We don’t exist to counter whatever shit Alek cooks up.” 

There’s a sort of shocked look on his face, like she’s caught him jacking off or something.Part of her hates herself for what she says next, but it needs saying - or rather it needs hearing. “Whatever fucking happened between the two of you….you’ve got to deal with it, Revan.If you don’t, you’ll sink the band and yourself.”

“There’s nothing there to deal with.”Except he’s lying because he’s not meeting her eye now.

“You should finish listening to it, Revan.Alek’s song.Think on that shit.Pick up the damn phone or something.I don’t know.But it’s fucking festering.”

Revan doesn’t answer at first and in the silence she places the tune he’d been playing.It’s an old demo, from even before the Padwans existed properly, a thing Revan and Alek did when it was just the two of them dicking around in the school’s practice hall.There were lyrics, too, but none Meetra remembers.The two of them had never really shared.If she wasn’t so pissed she’d feel sorry for them both.Maybe she does anyway because no matter whatever bullshit is happening now, she loves them like brothers, despite Revan’s ego and Alek’s stupidity.Maybe she should say that, but the words stick on her tongue. 

Instead, she tries one more time.“Just listen to the song, Revan.”

“Why the hell should I?Do you want me to feel guilty or something?Because I fucking don’t care what goddamn fucking Alek has to say about anything.” 

“Seems like an awful lot of denial to me, Revan.Listen to the goddamn song.”That’s all she’s got to say so she goes, leaving Revan staring angrily at the wall.He’ll either sort it or he won’t. 

Atton’s across the street when she comes out, leaning against the wall smoking.Must have been there at least half an hour while she wrestled with Revan - but he waited. Revan and HK and Ordo and his fucking guitar and Malachor and Alek and all of it just fades away when she sees him. Yeah, she’s in trouble.But better this sort of trouble, the kind that stirs something that makes her want more, than whatever fucking shit she just walked away from. 

He smiles at her, of course, grinds his smoke out under his heel and lands a soft kiss in hair.“Any luck?”

“No, same fucking bullshit.Revan always thinks he’s right.Not sure I care anymore though.”

“So …”

“Don’t even want to talk about it just want to, I don’t even know.Just something else.”

“Whatever you want, angel.”There it is again, that silly nickname.But it’s that as much as anything that she sinks into when his arms wrap around her and he kisses her forehead.“Let’s get out of here then?”

“Yeah.Let’s.” 

The thing’s in his eyes again when she looks, sparks brighter as she strokes his cheek. She remembers earlier, the way they’d held each other in the shower, that mystery at the edge of her mind. It’s a thing worth chasing or giving into - or maybe both.So for the moment she does.

“Where to, flyboy?”

The answer’s a kiss that just feels like _belonging_.That damn foolish grin is back on her face, too, but she doesn’t care because he just kisses her harder for it.

She’s so in trouble - and she’s never been so fucking glad for anything in her life.


End file.
